PERMUTATIONS

      Doug broke his foot! There's talk of surgery. I know no more except that he's out of commission, and the cooking situation at the shelter is back to pre-Doug status. Dean and I are "it" for Sundays, though today he brought his wife to help. She did a lot of dinner prep, but she's a bit handicapped and is slower than the average bear. For me, the best part of having her there was seeing how much Dean loves her.

       When I crossed the parking lot this morning, some of the guys out front let me know that they were hoping I'd make my soup. It's nice to be appreciated. Lanyard Guy let me in with, "You look nice today!" I've no idea where that came from, but I was feeling a glow and apparently it showed.

       Arriving at the (now never locked) dining room door, I heard raucous laughter inside and stepped in to see 4 or 5 pre-release having coffee. "Y'all need to cheer down!" I said. It's a joke. It's funny. They didn't get it. Every face turned toward me with just a touch of shock or dread, and I realized that I wasn't in the company of free people. "Hey," I covered with a big smile, "I can hear you laughing all the way out in the hall!" That was a long 2 seconds, but it ended well, and they know I'm on their side.

       Dean had some leftover BBQ for sandwiches, coleslaw, potato salad, and baked beans. There was almost enough, but we needed a pot of my soup to stretch those foods far enough. As it turned out, one fellow got only a sack lunch and potato salad, and Lanyard Guy had to settle for potato salad and a sandwich that I made for him. No one complained. Best of all, the food was all eaten, everyone had enough, and they're getting a great dinner tonight, thanks to Dean and his wife.

       Huggy breezed through the kitchen around mid-morning (to our dismay), but he only passed through. I was armed to the teeth to fend off any instructions he might want to dish out. Lucky for him, he just said "hi" and "bye" on his way to church. Stories of holding hands with women residents and having one of them tweak his "cheeks" were spreading through the kitchen. Of course, we all want to know WHY the cameras never pick up on THAT.

       Dean plugged in the CW oldies right after I arrived. He's so dear to actually show me how much he appreciates having me there. Oh, and today, my little girls have a new friend at the shelter, just about their same age. I was able to give each of them Beanies, candy, gum, and bubbles. It's time to get outside and blow some bubbles! Their mom came through the dining room around mid-morning. She thanked me for all the attention I've given her girls and said she hopes they'll be leaving soon. She left with "God bless you!" I know. I know. It's endearing! But she has no clue how much those little girls have given ME. Not a clue. I will miss their giggles and delight awfully, but I will celebrate their having a home of their own. It's okay; we can cry.

       We filled the PBJ bin with 25 sack meals, so Miss Lillian won't have to worry about that tomorrow. As always, I opened a soda for myself and poured some into my ice water around mid-morning. Sometime during the PBJ-sack preparation, my soda disappeared. Obviously Dean packed it in one of those sacks. I got down on the floor and went through about 15 sacks, but to no avail, and my legs wouldn't hold out any longer. Some poor street dweller will open their lunch tomorrow to find a used soda…

       When my little girls came near the kitchen door to put their plates in the trash, I pressed my nose against the door's glass—yes, like a pig. It was a hit. They stepped closer to pig-face me back, and I asked them, "Are you ready for some toys?" Yes, they were. I will miss them so much!

       Dean has this fear that I will leave. He named all the other volunteers who are leaving/have just left, and indicated that he didn't know how the kitchen would get along. Miss Lillian has no one to help her tomorrow. Apparently, a lot of the old volunteers are just worn out, and now Saturdays will find Dean working alone. I feel this need to be there for both of them, but… where the hell are all those folks who wanted MY job when I first started? The place is crying for volunteers—y'all come on down!